


Cheer up.

by BambiDoe



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gen, POV First Person, REALLY short story, frank's pov, less than 500 words short, subtle frerard - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-22 21:32:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8301902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BambiDoe/pseuds/BambiDoe
Summary: Gerard isn't happy with his work. Frank doesn't know how to help.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I know I promised a sequel to BDFWU and I really tried but, I ended up deleting because I hated it and I never had time to work on it.   
> Anyways, that being said, I never have time and energy to write and, when I do, I don't really do MCR anymore but, for some reason, I was in the mood to write Frank's POV so here it is.
> 
> It's just a shitty draft with no proofreading or editing. Sorry about that.

Something about Gerard reminds me of a fuckin’ cat. I don’t know what it is. It might just be the way he looks; his eyes or something.

He stretches and yawns, tired and bored, and fed up with whatever it is that he’s trying to do. 

“I’m second guessin’ myself again.” He tells me.

Again? I’ve never seen him act like he was second guessing himself. I guess he does. Everyone fuckin’ does. I know I do. 

His eyes. That’s it! His eyes are catlike somehow.

“Ya ever just get sick of your own shit?” He asks. “Y’know, like you just feel like everything you do is just--” 

He flails his arms around, to help get his point across. I get what he’s trying to say, even without the demonstration. I’ve never been confident in anything I’ve done. No matter how much I get done, it never feels like enough. 

“Yeah. All the time.”

My music sucks. My art sucks. My hair sucks. Yeah. I get that feeling all the damn time.

Gerard looks at me and smiles. Maybe it’s not his eyes. No. It has to be his nose. He’s got that pointy little nose...If it were framed with whiskers, he’d look exactly like a cat. 

“I think you’re fuckin’ cool.” He says.

“Nah. You’re the coolest.” I reply.

I don’t know how to take a compliment so, I throw it back to him. Take it. It’s all yours, Gee. He looks like he’s about to insist that I’m cooler, and he’s a big geek but, he stops himself. He’s holding back because he knows I won’t let him win.

Whatever Gerard is working on, looks good to me. I don’t see any problems with it. He’s too picky. 

“I feel like I’m gettin’ burnt out.” 

He rubs his eyes like he’s trying to reset himself somehow. I feel obligated to cheer him up somehow but, I don’t know what to say to him. Nothing I say is gonna help when I don’t even have my own shit together.

“Take a break for a minute and then look at it again.”

Good, solid, generic advice. That’ll be enough to make me seem like less of an asshole, at least.

Gerard laughs. We both know I’m bullshitting. Motivational talks aren’t really my thing. There’s a reason I’m a musician and not, I don’t know, a therapist or something.

“That’s not a bad idea. This ain’t gonna get any better if I sit here and stare at it. You wanna smoke?”

He talks out of the side of his mouth, and it’s kind of endearing. Of course I wanna take a smoke break with him.


End file.
